


Fatal Attraction

by orphan_account



Series: Fatal Attraction [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of dirtysupernaturalimagines: Imagine Crowley yelling at the Winchesters that he deserves to be loved by you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Guys, I can handle myself. Plus, Crowley promised that he wouldn’t pull any tricks.”

 

“No. Y/N, he’s the King of Hell. Do you really think he is the most trustworthy person? You’re not coming with us and that’s final.” Dean huffs irritated with your persistent pleading to meet the boys’ new partner-in-crime. Sam also refuses to allow you to meet Crowley but he is leaning towards your favor the longer the discussion goes on. And you know exactly how to bring Sam over onto your side.

 

“The only reason he promised is because he doesn’t have any better options. Do you think he’d be working with us if another option was available? Something that would give him the better end of the deal? He needs you guys just like we need him.” That seems to crack Dean’s resolve. His eyes shift towards the ground, contemplating. Sam, though not happy according to the furrow in his brow and the fatherly way his eyes continue to shift over me, seems to be on board.

 

“Dean,” Sam interjects tentatively. Gauding Dean into doing anything requires a certain precision that only Sam and Cas have. “Y/N has a point. Crowley wouldn’t jeopardize whatever he has planned just to mess with her. No offense.” Every word Sam says slowly breaks away Dean guard. Quite frankly, it is amazing the power Sam has over his brother and it never ceases to amaze you. The bond they have has stood the test of time and all the shit this world has thrown at them that would shatter others.  

 

“Alright. Okay. But Y/N, we do all the talking. I want to keep you out of this as much as possible.” Momentarily Dean’s stern face gives way to a look of defeat but his brotherly side kicks in. The way his eyes barely hide the embers of rage threatening to erupt to life at the thought of you being hurt, the concern, is not completely eased away. It is especially noticeable in the way Dean’s back remains taut and the veins in his neck stretching the skin.

 

Sam gives you a reassuring pat to the back and flashes a “it’ll-be-fine” smile. But it does little to soothe your nerves. It has become glaringly clear just what you have signed up for. You’re going to be meeting the actual King of Hell and if Dean’s obvious discomfort is any indication things are not going to go well. You peer over at Sam and Dean huddle together in the corner of the library, muttering and exchanging shifty glances between you and each other. A wave of disquiet battles with the overwhelming curiosity that has consumed you since you heard of the upcoming partnership. Maybe this wasn’t the smartest idea but you’re not backing out now.

 

You have never wanted to get out of a car so fast in your life. The tension throughout the ride was absolutely suffocating. Any and all attempts at conversations fell flat quickly bleeding into uncomfortable silence filled with only the sound of the engine humming away and the heavy rain beating against the car roof. If it wasn’t for that choking atmosphere you may have drifted off to sleep in the backseat. The car’s low drumming and the heavy rainfall is a new parent’s blessing that lulls their uncooperative baby to sleep. You can only silently beg to return to the bunker and curl under your covers, hiding away from the deep sense of dread that has washed over you on this drive.

 

The rain pounds away at your scalp as you drenching both you and the boys on the short walk towards the cheap motel room the incompetent manager had left unlocked. It at least saves the dilemma of paying the man or just breaking in. Either way we won’t be staying long so might as well save our money and the effort. Despite the short run we had from the car to this smoke infused room left all of you dripping like dogs after a bath. And you feel very similarly, uncomfortable and chilled to the bone.

 

“Hello boys.” Crowley’s distinctive husky voice catches your attention and you momentarily wish you hadn’t turned away from the blurry window to look at him. “And who is beauty that you’ve are keeping hidden away?”

 

Crowley’s reputation precedes him. You thought that everything you’d heard about him was purely an exaggeration but he could easily charm anyone to do what he wants. You now get why Sam and Dean were so adamant about leaving you behind, and they had tried for hours before we left to coax you out of this meeting, because this man is a snake oil salesman to the bone. Disregarding that factor, and the nagging sensation that you should run while you have the chance, you still feel a pull towards him that you can’t pinpoint. Maybe it’s the neat three piece suit tailored to fit him perfectly. Or maybe it’s his confidence, possibly arrogance to be honest, that draws you to move closer to him. Seeing you fall under Crowley’s charismatic spell Dean is the first to slam his arm against your middle effectively stopping your trance-like approach toward the demon, something you hadn’t noticed you were doing, and knocking the wind right out of you. The blow clears your senses that were being to dull allowing you to catch the scowls on the brothers’ faces.

 

Dean’s voice takes a menacing tone deep with disdain as he answers Crowley’s question. “None of your business. Your deal is with us and-”

 

“I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N. It’s...a pleasure meeting you.” Your voice sounds unlike your own. It is much softer and timid lacking its’ usual bite that always unwittingly creeps in. The brothers’ contempt for your interruption and unnecessary introduction ways heavy on you. For a moment you begin to question if Crowley is the worst threat in the room.

 

“It will be.” Crowley’s sly grin nearly stops your heart making it skip a beat in surprise causing your body to reflexively tense overtly aware how out of place you feel in whatever game he is playing. But you can’t help the curiosity, the wonder. You must continue playing despite the glaring risks and voice in your head pleading for you to escape.

 

You barely notice the conversation going between Crowley and the boys. All you seem to be able to focus on is the elegant flare that Crowley has as he speaks. It is like he is performing a one man play. Unbeknownst to you every time you turn to watch the worsening storm Crowley sneaks a peek hiding from the Winchesters his predatory gaze quickly replacing it with his normally condescending expression. The both of you are playing with fire.

 

_Thunder rumbles through the poorly insulated and weakened exterior wall. As the thunder dies down you notice that something has changed. No one’s talking anymore. Confused and increasingly more concerned you turn to ask what’s wrong but no one’s there. In fact the thin carpet is no longer soaked through from the water we tracked in but you still feel the cold air seeping in through the walls and into your clothes._

_“We now have the whole place to ourselves. What do you propose we do with this opportunity, Y/N?” Crowley’s smooth voice calls from behind you causing you to lurch out of your rickety chair._

_“I-wh-what did you do to Sam and Dean?” You hold your breath fearing the worst._

_“Don’t worry, Darling. They are just fine.” Something about the way he says it, despite how ominous it should have sounded, intrigues you. Crowley isn’t telling you the whole story but quite frankly you don’t care. Having all his attention trained on you has significantly worn down your perception of anything other than him. Easily picking up on your mental state Crowley proposes a wonderful idea. “We both know you aren’t really interested in that now and neither am I. So how about we make some good use of this alone time?”_

_Not needing any more guiding you say yes sir taking note of the playful glint that flashes in Crowley’s darkening eyes at the phrase. With a crisp snap of his fingers the gelid air attacks every piece of newly exposed flesh, nipping at the tender skin of your breasts sending chills up your spine. It’s hard to tell if it is just from the air or the arousal coursing through you. A dull ache pulsates with the beat of your heart in your core; it’s definitely not the cold._

_“Just what exactly do you have in mind?” You ask already knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it._

_A sinister cast takes over Crowley’s face and the next thing you notice is the faded floral comforter and the pained squeaking of the bed frame. Crowley’s suit jacket sleeves rub against the arch of your back and the fabric of pant leg is pressed right against your ass. His erection is pulling the fabric taut against him. Trying to see just how far you can push Crowley you rub up against his bulge delighted, and slightly concerned, at his impressive girth._

_“Now look what you’ve done to my suit. Seems like someone will have to teach you some manners.” With another curt snap of his fingers the feeling of fabric is replaced by skin. Crowley swiftly ties your hands behind your back with his silk tie._

_One of Crowley’s fingers strokes along your folds before he dips it inside of you. Almost as quickly as his finger entered you it is gone leaving you feeling hollow and in need for its’ return. And your wish is granted. With his hands gripping onto your hips, surely there will be bruising in the morning, Crowley plunges himself in you. Allowing you for a moment to adjust Crowley gives your ass a hard smack turning your cheek bright red. A jolt of electricity runs straight to your pussy._

_Tired of waiting Crowley begins to ravage you from behind. The sound of your crashing skin, your slick lubricating Crowley’s cock, and your combined grunts battle with the raging storm. The lightning strikes are coming closer casting their brilliant white light crashes against your bodies, illuminating Crowley’s face that is twisted as if he were snarling at you, completely consumed by the feeling of your pussy trying to keep him close. With each violent thrust the bed frame cries out in misery unable to withstand the strain and you feel similarly._

_Each pump has you gasping for breath. Crowley’s scruff scrapes against your back as his hot breath beats against the space between your shoulder blades. You try to move your hips hoping for a better angle so you can feel Crowley’s cock deeper inside of you. Wanting things to be done on his terms Crowley wraps your legs right under his ass._

 

“You son of a bitch!” Dean’s wooden chair flies back, cracking against the wall leaving a small dent where it hit. Sam places his hands on your face checking you for injuries that are visible and others that may hide much further under the surface.

 

“Y/N, what’d Crowley do to you? Are you okay?” Unsure how to respond you try see what exactly Dean is doing to Crowley. “We’re leaving. Now!”

 

Reluctantly you let Sam drag you out of the motel into dank air. The storm is over and probably has been for some time. You start piecing things together. Nothing really happened but your arousal, the way your panties are sticking together and your core still aching, that wasn’t an illusion. Before you step off the sidewalk in front of your room’s door you catch the beginning of Dean and Crowley’s argument.

 

“We all need a little love now don’t we, Squirrel? Or at least a happy ending.” Crowley’s confidence doesn’t fade despite a seething Dean is barely holding himself back from beating the shit out of him.

  
Having been shoved into the Impala’s back seat you stroke your hands up and down your thighs anxiously waiting for shit to hit the fan. Well, more shit. A lump in your jean pocket catches your attention. Crowley’s silk red tie is comes out of your pocket and a smirk crawls onto your face. This is the last time you’ll see the King of Hell. You’ve just earned the spot of Crowley’s new carnal pleasure. You can only hope he’ll come again soon so that you can finish what was with proper restraints this time.


	2. For your sake

The boys haven’t stopped arguing over everything. The mark and your escapade with Crowley at the motel get brought into every conversation. Even Castiel, who rarely comes around anymore, has been getting smacked around. For the past six months it has only gotten worse plus Crowley has been coming around less often. Tonight you’ve got the bunker all to yourself. It really starts to settle in and you’re not sure if having this place to yourself is such a great thing. Without the boys it feels empty, unsafe and callous. At least with them here you aren’t constantly thinking of the next time you’ll see Crowley. Rowena has been giving him hell lately and you’re bi-weekly rendezvous started dwindling down to every other week. Now you’re lucky if you get five minutes of phone sex.

 

“If now is a bad time I can come back later.” Crowley’s breath tickles against the back of your neck.

 

“Fuck!” You spin around and instinctively go to punch him in the chest.

 

Crowley snatches your wrist in his hand his eyes never losing their amazed glimmer. He pulls you towards him wrapping his arm around your waist. You start to lose your anger as you stare into his eyes. They show just how tired he truly is but he has scrounged up every ounce of his energy to be here. With you. You feel your heart flutter at the thought but try to pull it back and bury it deep. Crowley is the king of hell and getting mixed into his life, if he’ll even let you in, isn’t smart. He is the type of man everyone warns to stay away from but the small pull you felt when you first met has only grown stronger.

 

“I brought you something.” Crowley motions to your desk table. Sitting on your white cubby desk is a brand new laptop to your overheated, beat up, dinosaur called a computer that before. You had made an offhanded comment about it but you hadn’t noticed that Crowley caught the snide remark  you’d made under your breath.

 

“You..I can’t believe you got this for me.” Dumbfounded by Crowley’s unexpected present you can’t help but feel indebted. “What can I do to pay you back?”

 

“Nothing. It’s my treat.” You go to protest and Crowley raises his hand to cut you off. “It’s yours to do whatever you’d like with.”

 

“Since you’re here how about we make good use of this time you’ve got off.” You put your hands underneath the shoulders of his overcoat getting it up enough to start sliding it down his arms.

 

Knowing that Crowley takes great pride in his clothing being tidy you hook your fingers in the coat collar stopping it before it can hit the floor. You absentmindedly put it on the back of your office chair watching as Crowley slowly undoes his tie moving himself over to you as he snaps his tie off. His lays the tie down on top of his coat as he brings his face within inches of yours. You start unbuttoning Crowley’s black dress shirt keeping your eyes cast down fighting for your heart to simmer down. Today, it just isn’t going to happen. The smell of his cologne is driving you crazy, completely impairing your self-control. Your fingers continuously fumble with Crowley’s shirt buttons adding frustration to the mix.

 

His shirt finally undone hangs limply but before you can cast it aside Crowley lifts you up bridal style and spreads across your bed. He starts kissing the side of your neck working his way towards your collar making sure to suck and nip harder enough to cause marks by the morning. You shift over onto your side dragging Crowley down beside you. He kicks off his shoes. They bang against the wall with one shoe skidding out of your room. Crowley lifts your thin tank top up with one hand exposing your bare chest and the other slides past your pajama shorts and panties. Crowley starting sucking and twisting your nipples in his mouth. His fingers rub against your clit sending vibrations through your legs making you clutch your thighs together.

 

“Y/N, I need you to spread your legs for me.” Crowley’s voice comes out as a low husky groan. Demanding yet somehow pleading. His slick facade is cracking and you love it.

 

“As soon as your pants come off I will.” You’re astounded that despite how reluctant Crowley is to take orders he semi-obediently tosses his pants off onto the floor where they lay in a crumpled heap. Maybe you’re not the only one who has been missing the intimacy.

 

You’re a little taken off guard when you notice that Crowley’s custom boxers are nowhere to be found. Crowley grows impatient as you ogle his erection, still amazed with its’ size, and decides to rip the side of your shorts along with your underwear. He throws aside your tattered garments and returns his hand to your mound. Crowley slips one of his fingers inside you making you groan at the partial relief of your yearning. But it's’ not nearly enough. You want him and you’re not going to keep waiting for Crowley.

 

You slink your leg over and onto Crowley’s hip causing his finger leave you. Stifling a groan  you grasp Crowley’s cock and rub his tip against your clit. You almost miss the barely audible grunt but you feel it rumble through your collarbone where Crowley continues to tease you with kisses and the prickling of his stubble. Crowley grabs your thigh right underneath your ass and guides your body down onto his cock. You gasp enjoying the added warmth. Crowley gives out a low growl clutching at your thigh. Both of you eager for more fall into a mind numbingly slow rhythm. The feel of your skin rubbing against each other, sweat pooling on the small of your back makes everything else fade into the background. Crowley’s arms envelop you, holding you tight against his body as if in a moment you’ll disappear into the night, just a cruel fantasy teases him with what he can’t have. You bury your hands in Crowley’s hair trying to fight away your growing orgasm, wanting to stay tangled for the rest of the night. As soon as you come Crowley will leave. It’s been your routine and every time it gets harder to let go, to wake up alone. Crowley brings one of his hands in between your legs and presses against your clit, swirling around it in tune with each thrust. You can no longer hold back your climax as it tears through you with heightened intensity. Your guttural moan overpowers the hiss that leaves Crowley as he pumps his way to his orgasm.

 

Much too soon Crowley pulls out of you and goes to get out of bed. Without a second thought you snatch his arm before he can leave. For once you’re going to ask, beg even, for Crowley to stay even if it is selfish of you. You’d like one day to wake up to see his slumbering face next to yours.

 

“Please stay. As soon as the sun comes up you can leave but…” You hate how pathetic you feel you sound.

 

“Alright, Darling.” You feel like Crowley agreed a little too quickly but readily throw your suspicions to the wind.

 

Nestled underneath your plushy comforter Crowley strokes your arm lulling you to sleep. The strain in Crowley’s face has nearly evaporated and continues to soften the longer he looks at you. The edges of your vision start to get hazy as Crowley plays with the ends of your hair. As the last of your sight goes into darkness you hear a soft humming and a smile creeps onto your face. You fall asleep with a smile that would put the cheshire cat to shame.

 

Seeing your breathing slow Crowley waits a few minutes to make sure you are truly asleep, not wanting to admit that he’d like nothing more than to stay the night. Dragging himself away from your resting form Crowley snaps his fingers and is redressed in his crisp clothing. Crowley tries to close the door to your room as gently as possible even though he knows you sleep like a hibernating bear. An ominous voice cuts into the still air of the bunker.

 

“Crowley. I think we should talk.”

* * *

 

You try to shake off your nerves. It’s the first time you’ve actually set up a date to meet up with Crowley. Most of the time he’ll just show up whenever he isn’t busying or in the mood for some angry sex. You feel unbelievably uneasy and the fluttering in the pit of your stomach won’t go away. One last time you check your bag making sure the bottle of Craig has somehow walked off since the last thirty seconds you’d checked it. Summoning all your courage you open the door to a seemingly abandoned bar. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust but the smell of old cigarettes and stale beer hits you immediately. While you’re grateful the boys won’t end up looking for you here first you can’t help but hope that your first planned “date”, if it can really be called a date, with Crowley would have been somewhere nicer. And wouldn’t smell so foul. You catch Crowley sitting at the bar with a fruity cocktail sitting in front of him.

 

“I never thought I’d the King of Hell drinking a piña colada.” Crowley forces a chuckle emphasizing the awkwardness between the two of you. “Hey, I found this and it made me think of you. You don’t have to take it but I think you’d enjoy it more than I would.” You pull out the bottle of Craig extending it for Crowley but he doesn’t move a muscle.

 

“Y/N, I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression as to what our relationship is.”

 

Ever horrible possibility you imagined doesn’t compare to where you think this is going. The fluttering vanishes and is replaced by a deep feeling of dread that you can’t shake.

 

“I-I don’t-what are you getting at Crowley?”

 

“I’m saying that I want to end this before you start asking for things I can’t, won’t, give you. You were a warm body whenever I didn’t want to bother getting someone new, more interesting. Let’s face it, dear, you’re mediocre at best.” Crowley’s voice is devoid of any emotion other than thinly veiled disgust. “Go home, Y/N. You don’t belong in this world. Leave before this life swallows you whole.”

 

A rueful chuckle breaks through you. “Yeah, like you give a shit if it does. Like you said I’m just a warm body so what does it matter if this life kills me? It would have saved you the trouble of giving me this speech.” You turn to go storm off to your car but spin back aiming the glass bottle of Craig to slam against the weathered bar counter. Chunks of glass spray the room and globs of scotch splatters against Crowley’s suit. “Enjoy the scotch.”

 

With a roar your car comes to life and you zoom back to the bunker fighting back the tears and growing insecurity. Crowley hangs his head and squeezes his eyes shut. His migraine pounds away at his skull. The look of pure betrayal on your face is going to haunt him every chance it gets. A strong hand clasps Crowley’s shoulder sympathetically.

 

“You made the right choice.”

 

_“You need to end whatever this is that you’ve got with Y/N. I’ve let it go because for some god-awful reason it makes her happy being with you but now, this life and us, is going to get her killed.”_

_“Why are you telling me all this?” Crowley jams his hands into his coat pocket trying to hide his growing unease, his realization that he’ll have to give you up before either of you end up with your heads underwater._

_“Because if you stop seeing Y/N I’m going to make sure she has a normal life. No more monsters, witches, or ancient curses. Y/N will have a chance to have an apple-pie life. Isn’t that what she deserves?”_

 

“For her sake I hope so, Moose.” Crowley sips his piña colada agonizing over the thousands of ways their plan could go wrong.

 

Sam pulls up a stool beside Crowley and gives him a meek grin. Unbeknownst to Crowley Sam has a plan to the Mark of Cain off of Dean and he needs you at your best. Crowley is becoming too much of a distraction for you and he can’t risk something bad happening to Dean just because you started developing feelings for the demon. But letting your relationship play out worked out better than he thought. Crowley is willing to do anything for you and, now, you’d be willing to do anything to get back at him. If Sam ever needs a favor done he might be able to spin Crowley his way by using you. Sam leaves Crowley alone at the bar and gets inside of the 1930’s car he’d borrowed from the bunker garage. For a moment Sam considers letting you in on the whole plan but he quickly throws that idea out the window.

 

_“Sorry Y/N but we need to be focused on finding a cure. I’m not going to lose Dean to some ancient curse.”_

 

  



	3. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final part in series

 

You limp back up to your room back towards your bedroom, the twinge in your leg turning to numbness. Plopping onto your bed you grimace as you pull down your jeans. It drags and catches on new scabs that now cover your legs. Yellow, purple, and dark blue take up more of your legs than your normal skin color. You fall limp against your bed, fatigued. All the emotions you’ve been fighting, ignoring, comes back with a vengeance.  

 

Right as everything seems to be trying to swallow you up Sam knocks on your door. You bury everything again and put on your best face. Fully prepared you shout for Sam can come in.

 

“Y/N, I think I found what we need to get the Mark off of Dean for good. We, wait,” Sam’s face scrunches up in embarrassment and he doesn’t know where to direct his eyes. “are-do you want me to wait outside so that you can put some pants on?”

 

Sam goes to head out but stops a step short when you wave the notion away. “I already took them off, and there is no way I’m putting them back on. Once they’re off, they’re off. So what’s your plan?”

 

Sam pulls out your desk chair and talks you through the plan. Charlie is going to help figure out the cypher for Rowena and Castiel is going to help keep guard between the two. Whenever Castiel can’t be around you’ll take over so that the work environment doesn’t turn into a screaming match. Once the spell is translated and the ingredients are gathered then the Mark will be no problem. It isn’t the most full proof plan since it relies almost entirely on Rowena keeping her side of the deal, but this is Dean’s best shot at some sort of freedom from the Mark.

 

“Alright! We got this!” You clap your hands together and give Sam your biggest smile. “I’m going to take a shower, and then get some sleep. Tomorrow I’ll make sure Dean doesn’t catch onto anything and you’ll deal with the crew?” Sam nods his head, content. You head towards your ensuite bathroom ready to wash away the filth from the day and, hopefully, the constant ache you can’t quite place.

 

As you peel away your clothes your ribs ache with every movement, your hips screams, and your legs beg for some rest. The steaming water stings at your ravished skin. You try to speed through as much of the shower as possible while still letting the near boiling water unknot your tense muscles. Sharp memories of the past month flash through your mind. When you finally came back to the bunker after meeting Crowley at the abandoned bar you spent most of the night switching between anger and grief. Even now it still happens and you wished this exhausting shift of emotions would stop. Despite throwing yourself into work, literally and figuratively, every moment of silence or inaction feels like years. Everything is moving much so quickly, and, if you’re completely honest with yourself, this constant changing is the only thing keeping your head above water. Keeping you from sinking into self-doubt and pity.

 

Even more drained than when you first got into the shower you dry off and throw on an oversized t-shirt. As your body plops into your mattress it cradles your every curve, enveloping you in a much needed sense of safety. You fade into sleep, your body physically unable to stay awake for a second longer. In your deathlike sleep Crowley comes out of the corner of your room to the side of your bed. He examines your new scars, bruises, and fresh band aid covered wounds. Disgusted with the extent of your injuries Crowley looks down at his feet, clenching his fists and jaws. Your body shivers involuntarily as heat you had accumulated during your shower dissipates. Crowley carefully wraps your comforter around you and a twitch of a half smile comes onto his face as you cuddle further into the new source of comfort.

 

Once again Crowley feels his anger rise in his chest. He couldn’t believe when his demons told him what you were doing all this time. Running into gunfire, attacking nests of vampires by yourself, doing everything and anything to figure out the cypher. Now Crowley can’t believe what you’ve been willing doing to yourself, and that Sam has done nothing to keep you out of harm's way. Sam promised that you’d get a second chance at life away from here, away from the toxicity that comes with being a hunter. Yet, here you are. Beaten, exhausted, and going deeper into this world than before. Crowley’s going to have a word with Sam about keeping his word. When you wake up the next morning you catch the faint scent of musky cologne and scotch embedded in your comforter. You have to force yourself out of bed otherwise you would have spent the whole day breathing in the comforting smell.

 

“Hey, Sam, can you do me a favor?” You have to give a convincing reason for Sam to have to go out of the bunker by himself. One slip up and Dean will catch onto even a whiff of deceit there is no way he’ll let Sam, or you, off the hook.

 

“Ugh, sure, what can I do for you?” Sam puts his laptop aside, closing the multiple tabs of the Mark and Cain. You can’t help but notice that there are bags under his eyes, the red that is taking over the whites of his eyes. The Mark may be on Dean but it, visually, is taking more of a toll on Sam.

 

“Can you pick up some stuff for me? I apparently messed up my knee somehow someway yesterday. So..could you get me some of my favorite snacks and maybe some icy-hot patches for me? Please?” You flutter your eyelashes at Sam, really hamming up the acting. Dean across the table stifling his laughter as Sam forces a sigh.

 

Sam closes his laptop, ruffs up your hair, and heads to off to really go meet with Castiel, Charlie, and Rowena.

 

You use your sweetest voice possible to shout, “Thank you, Sammy! I love you!”

 

* * *

 

 

Sam tosses the shopping bag of potato chips, chocolate, and caramel cremes into the back of the Impala. Your diversion didn’t cause any red flags, and freed Sam up for enough time to check up on Rowena’s progress before he had to head back to the bunker. Before Sam can get out of the car Crowley appears in the passenger seat. A deep set scowl makes his unkempt beard look heavy, emphasizing his now gaunt facial features.

 

“Moose, we need to talk.”

 

“Now really a good time. I-” Crowley clenches his jaw, the fury in his gut that has been brewing since last night overflows. Without a second thought Crowley focuses on the inside of Sam’s wrist, picturing the sensitive flesh blistering as Crowley heats up the skin.

 

Sam winces, snapping his wrist up to his chest as if it would lessen the pain of the internal burning. “Alright, what do you want?” The unbearable pain subsides. Only the dull stinging remains as a reminder of Crowley’s assault.

 

“Tell me what made you think I wouldn’t find out that you haven’t kept your side of our deal.”

 

* * *

 

 

You are leaning against the railing to the bunker watching for the Impala. Sam had texted you that he was heading back home and you wanted to hear how far Charlie’s gotten with the cipher. You bounce your legs in an attempt to kick your nerves. Before you never liked having nothing to do, and now, after everything that’s happened, you have to keep busy otherwise you will lose your self-control.

 

Before you can continue dwelling on everything that has taken your life by storm Sam comes rolling down the dry driveway. The small smile that had started growing on your face fades as you see Sam’s sullen expression. The low rumble of Baby’s motor cuts away and Sam stands in front of you, hanging his head like a puppy that’s being yelled at.

 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen with the cipher?” You have so many questions that they seem to just keep flowing out with barely a pause in between.

 

“Y/N,  I need to tell you something.” The finality in Sam’s voice turns your body cold.

 

“Okay, I’m listening.” You try to prepare yourself for the worst but never expected to hear what Sam had to say.

 

“I screwed up. Please understand I never meant for anything bad to happen. I just..I need to do everything I can to help Dean. He needs us, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. So, I convinced Crowley to cut off his relationship with you. ”

 

You raise an eyebrow and interrupt Sam before he can, what you assume, make you feel better. “You don’t have to cover for him. He made his choice and that doesn’t include me. It’s as simply as that.”

 

“Not quite that simple.” Crowley’s voice catches you off guard. You feel every muscle in your body tense in rage and shock. That smug look on his face irritates the hell out of you and you’d like nothing more than to smack it off his face.

 

“Why the fuck are you here?!” Sam steps in between your path to Crowley. Sam’s hands are raised to stop you and his huge frame blocks any sight you have of Crowley.

 

“Y/N I know you don’t want him here but Crowley does have a point. Just let me explain.” Sam’s words calm the storm growing inside of you, but you still feel it on the edge, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

 

“Fine. Go ahead.”

 

Sam composes himself, a look of disgust and dread turning his normally cheerful face sour. “I convinced Crowley to talk to you at the bar. Dean needs us at our best and when you’re with him your head isn’t there. I know it wasn’t the best move-”

 

“You’re damn right it wasn’t. Did you ever consider what would happen to me because of this? Did ever think about..anyone other than Dean? Or the position you're putting Castiel and Charlie in? Did you lie to them too?” You can bring yourself to look at Sam. He has been your family when you needed it most, you’re counselor when you couldn’t turn to anyone else, your best friend. Yet, here you are, standing with one of the few people you thought you could trust, feeling completely alone.

 

“Please understand that I have to do everything I can. Please...”

 

“Yeah, I get it. I get it. Good luck with the rest of your ‘Let’s save Dean no matter the cost’ plan. I hope that ends up working out for you two. I’ll be out by tomorrow.” Before Sam can protest you storm you way back into the bunker. You barely hear Dean calling after you.

 

Past the brothers arguing Crowley finds his way into your bedroom. He watches you as you jam everything you own into a backpack and a duffel bag. In flashes of rushing limbs, heavy footsteps, and angry muttering the things that added so much life in your room as stored temporarily until the can find another place to brighten up. Crowley looks over to your nearly cleared off desk and spots a small box with his name written on a card taped to the lid. Curious Crowley grabs the box and slips the white lid off. Inside is new red tie and a pair of pitchfork shaped cufflinks. A small amused smile spreads on Crowley’s face, but before he can check what the card says you snatch the box away.

 

“I need you to be honest me. Why did you agree to Sam’s deal? Was it just an excuse to get rid of me or what?” You place the present for Crowley inside your duffel bag on top of the last of your clothing.

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You scrunch up your nose in disbelief. You don’t know what you expected. It would make you happy, even if it was about something terrible, for Crowley to just open up to you. Just one peek at what’s going on in his head, his heart. But it is unlikely he’ll give you that luxury.

 

“Yeah,” You turn around to grab your only other pair of shoes and place them along the edges of the duffel bag. “I guess that’s my answer.”

 

Before you can pack the last of your belongings Crowley steps in between you and your desk where all you have left is waiting.

 

“It wasn’t an excuse. I did it because it was necessary to get you far away from all of this. But that didn’t happen. Sam didn’t keep his end of the bargain, and let you continue to be stubborn, pig-headed. Instead of turning you away from all the danger you went looking for it.”

 

You feel your mouth go dry as you put the pieces together. “I didn’t ask you to get me out. I chose this. Me! I don’t need your protection. I can do it on my own!”

 

“Clearly.”

 

Warmth floods your cheeks. “That’s beside the point.”

 

“Actually, it is my point. This life you’ve chosen with them, what we started, is going to get you killed. Your lucky if you reach forty. I was trying to give you the opportunity to run away and live a life outside of this.”

 

“Sure, a life that would have bored the hell out of me. Spending my days at a nine to five, all the office politics. That isn’t me! I can’t do that. Not after being here, knowing what I know now. Knowing you.” Finally the tears that have been dancing at the rim of your eyes bubble over. Unsure of what to do Crowley fidgets for a moment before wiping away your tears.

 

“It is a terrible idea to get involved any more with me, Y/N. You deserve better.”

 

“That’s my choice.”

 

“There is no way I’m going to be able to change your mind is there?” You can here the defeat in Crowley’s voice. For the first time you notice just how much he has deteriorated. He looks so much older, skinner. The man that had sucked you in with his confidence is an after image. Now the man before you is haggard and beyond exhausted.

 

“Nope.”

 

“May I have my present back?”

 

You chuckle and push yourself away from Crowley. “No, not yet. I’ll give them to you when I get some clarity back.”

 

The day’s events has your body running on empty. You’ve ridden a rollercoaster of emotions and Crowley feels the same. He decides to give you all the time you need to really decide what’s going to happen. Plus, he could use some too. If Crowley agrees to any sort of romantic relationship with you it could put you into more danger. He feels torn. It is either giving you up and dealing with the ache in silence, or staying with you and making sure you have every form of protection available at your disposal.

 

You are also dealing with a very similar issue. Every thing that Crowley had said to get you to leave him really hit a nerve. And you still can hear each word as it plunged into you every time the silence settles. On the other hand you get why Crowley did what he did. If you were offered the same deal you would have jumped on it. It would have ripped you apart inside but if it meant Crowley would be safe you have immediately agreed. Curled underneath the plaid spare comforter you plan on leaving you can’t help but chuckle. Sam is doing the same thing for Dean that you would but the hurt still is there. Just like with Crowley. As you fade into the first decent sleep you’ve had in weeks. You’ve made your choice.

 

At four in the morning you slip out of your bed, do your morning routine, grab your bags, and slip out of your room. The bunker echoes the soft padding of your sneakers against the floor. You slide a note you had quickly written when you woke up. It explained that you’re leaving, for them not to look for you, everything but the real reason you’re leaving. You debated whether or not to give Dean a separate letter, telling him everything, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. That’s Sam’s responsibility and you can’t make decisions for him. With one last look around the bunker you whisper your goodbyes and head off into moonlit night.

 

Along the way you find a beat up 92’ Saturn with the paint chipping but with enough gas to get you to the closest fill station. Before long you find your pattern, the hunter’s life on your own as you heal. You bounce between cities, crappy motel rooms, sleazy bars, and drive down endless roads until you can’t keep your eyes open any longer. The boys have tried to call you and you’ve ignored every single one. For a while they stopped but it wasn’t long before Charlie was calling your every couple days. Eventually those stopped to. Occasionally you would sense Crowley around you, the smell of Craig never too far away, but before you can catch more than a glimpse of his coat he’s gone.

 

You tried for two months to settle, play pretend that you didn’t notice supernatural things happening in neighboring towns, but it drove you crazy. The mindless chatter of unassuming landlords, elderly men playing chess every day was suffocating. By now you’ve come to realize you can’t avoid hunting. You always said you wouldn’t get involved, that it was none of your business, but every time you tried to turn away you felt guilty. Eventually you can to terms with the fact that there is no way you’d be able to get away for long before you get pulled back into hunting. You gave in. It didn’t take long for you to get back in the swing of things. Your body ached for days afterwards from the renewed long sleepless nights and combat. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Once again you hop into your newly redone car. It has all the bells and whistles that a hunter’s car needs. Hidden weapons chamber under the a fake flooring in the tunk, devil’s traps, and remodeled audio system for you to blare whatever music you want on those long nights of travelling. The wind from the driver’s side window blows your hair into your eyes. In the moment it takes you to remove your hair you feel a welcome presence that fills the car.

 

“Hey, Crowley. What brings you into my home uninvited? I thought I was supposed to call you when I was ready to talk.” You are kind of glad that Crowley came to you first despite your teasing. You’ve been debating when was a good time to finally decide where your relationship is going but always chicken out at the last second. Unfortunately, that warm feeling fades as Crowley speaks.

 

“I’m afraid I have some bad news, Darling. It’s about Sam and Dean.”

 

“When is there ever good news when the Winchesters are involved? Before we get into any details, look inside the glove box.”

 

Crowley opens your glove box and finds the small box you’d shoved into your duffel bag the last time you’d properly seen him.

 

“I’m ready to try again if you are. Can’t say that a hundred percent sure about what will happen, but this is one of those now-or-never situations. Are you in?” You look at Crowley from out of the corners of your eyes and any hesitations you had before seem pointless. He’s switching out his black tie for the red tie that was in the box and adding the pitchfork cufflinks to his dress shirt.

 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

 


End file.
